


Vessels of Intent Part 1

by PJMarshall



Series: Vessels of Intent [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Dean-Centric, F/M, Original Plus size female
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 12:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4747076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJMarshall/pseuds/PJMarshall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mystery Night in Mobile would be an eye opener for Dean and lead the brothers down some unexpected paths. Sometimes it not the Vessel you should worry about but the intention it contains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vessels of Intent Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of a 3 part series(Vessels of Intent Part 1 and 2 and Ae Fond Kiss and then we sever some Supernatural Sons of Bitches) which first appeared online in 2013 on Tumblr then all three parts have been on Live Journal since between 2013 and 2014. These were my first Supernatural fanfics Inspired by a love of the show and a voice I had wanted to express from the perspective of a plus size girl in modern society for a long time. The stories are heavily music centric due to the nature of Gemini's abilities and all mentioned songs are on You Tube. I once read an article that said the average Brit woman was 5ft 4, size 16 and drove a red Fiesta. There was no way she was driving a car as common as a red Fiesta but I wanted Gemini to be a supernatural embodiment of the average girl considering a size 14 and up is UK plus size. The show didn't look like it was gonna give the boys a plus size bunk buddy at anytime soon even though Dean himself says "Ice cream comes in lots of flavours Sammy" when referencing his love of a variety of women. So 2 and a half (or so) years ago, I decided to make it happen.  
> I hope you enjoy the story comments welcome. Thank You. The stories are based in and around the shows actual plot.

SUPERNATURAL FAN FICTION   
VESSELS OF INTENT   
PJ MARSHALL

 

PART 1

 

MOBILE, AL (October 27th ,2007)

 

The clock on the bedside table reads five past midnight. Both the Winchester brothers are out cold. Sprawled where they landed on the intricate patchwork of the motel’s floral bed throws. Their coma like states a combination of long days on the road and in Dean’s case booze.

Sam worries that everyday his big brother slips closer and closer to being (like their dad) a functioning alcoholic but whenever he tries to broach the subject with Dean; Dean always plays down Sam's concern by arguing that if most people had seen what they have they would lose their minds never mind their sobriety. 

Most people didn't knowingly trade their soul in for a one way ticket to hell in order to save their brother either so at the moment alcoholism was the least of Dean’s long string of worries.

Why Sam hadn’t began comforting himself in some vice for the sake of his   
own sanity he didn’t know? Maybe he was a sadist at heart preferring his torture raw or maybe keeping himself busy ingesting every glimmer of knowledge about the alternate universe they lived in was his distraction from vice or even a vice in it’s self.

Right now (even as he slept) all Sam’s focus was on searching out an escape route for his brother from his pact with the crossroads demon.  
A fate Dean was pretending he was marching toward swinging but Sam knew better.

He knew Dean was putting on a tough exterior for his benefit while medicating his wounds with a bit of Southern Comfort or the assistance of Dr Jack Daniels and the distraction of any and every new hunt that came across their path.

When Dean suggested they make their current pit stop in Mobile Sam had been glad of the rest but surprised, considering the previous morning Dean had been down right antsy for the brothers to be on their way to Wheeling, WV and the Bruno Gunnerson hunt.

Seventeen year old Bruno Gunnerson had disappeared on Halloween night 1987, on his way home from a friends party. The local High School football star his disappearance had shocked his community and devastated his parents. 

Bruno had been missing for almost twenty years when suddenly two days ago the current owners of his old family home found him lying on their front porch. He was still seventeen. An exhausted, beat up, badly in need of a doctor seventeen but seventeen none the less.

 

Out on the walk way of the brothers motel all is silent except for the electric hum of the ice machine. Inside, Dean wakes drowsily from sleep barely registering the homespun haberdashery of his latest abode.

A stop he would not normally have made but he had been road weary, bone tired and just had this overwhelming urge to pull in; suck back some shots and sleep. So much for the sleep.

Dean rubs his stubbly face hoping the brisk movement will awaken the saliva glands inside his arid mouth and allow him to remove his tongue from its roof.

He tries to gather his thoughts which are spinning fifty places at once like he has woken suddenly from deep inside his mind but what woke him?  
Blinking hard to focus he hears music, the intro to some song that seems vaguely familiar.

The haunting opening bars are from Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Tango in the night’ and they are playing for Dean’s ears only. 

Not quite registering what he is doing Dean jumps up from the bed a look of determination on his face. Grabbing his shirt and keys he heads for the door.

Sam snoozes on totally unaware of Dean’s eminent post-midnight departure. Too busy stumbling his way through a nightmarish land of folklore trying again and again and failing in equal proportion to reach a solution that will save his brother.

 

Pulling out of the parking lot moments later Dean cruises along the highway a round moon bright overhead. He appears to be driving aimlessly but he is following the music. Spotting the ‘Blue Orchid Motel’; Dean indicates, changes lanes and pulls into the parking lot.

Inside room 12b, at the ‘Blue Orchid’, (her UK size sixteen figure in cased only in a white motel laundered towel) stands twenty-seven year old Gemini Jones. 

The spirals of long golden hair that were cascading down her back and bare shoulders fall forward to frame her face as she bends over to switch on a small white docking station. She unzips what looks like a large soft bodied file; inside lined neatly in pockets are mp3 players of every size and colour.

Pulling out a small black Nano, Gemini slides her finger around the dial to make her song selection. Her large intense blue eyes focusing on the options as they whiz by on the small screen. Satisfied she has chosen the right song, she sets the player into the cradle of the station and sets it to play.

The atmospheric over tones of the intro to ‘Tango in the Night’ emanate from the speakers with amazing crystal clarity. A set of small wooden spears decorated in ornate Celtic markings lay to the left of the player. A long deep blue velvet roll lies open on the floor. 

Inside it are more spears some silver, some bronze or iron even one which looks bejewelled and small ones that you might throw like death stars; all with the same Celtic markings.

Lighting a cluster of candles on the table Gemini turns to take in a full view of her handiwork. Clusters of glowing candles can be seen around the room. Long shadows filling the room where their flickering glow doesn’t reach. 

For a brief fleeting moment the shadows of two Statuesque female figures seem to appear on the wall masking an area of the candles glow. Then in a blink they are gone.

Satisfied a relaxing mood has been set Gemini heads towards the white light of the bathroom and the sound of a running shower. As she disappears into the bathroom's steam misted atmosphere she leaves the towel that had been covering her shapely body lying on the bedroom floor.

Dean is out on the covered walk way of the ‘Blue Orchid’. He appears to be casing the rooms. Finally he picks a door, picks its lock and slips inside.

 

Gemini stands in the open shower her face under the shower head humming a watery chorus. The misty shadow of a figure appears briefly outside the glass panel. Gemini hums on enjoying the warmth of the water on her skin, unaware of the unknown presence.

Turning her back to the shower head Gemini raises her hands into her hair to rinse out any soapy remains. In doing so she also raises her voluptuous breasts; her nipples pert from the pummelling water jets.

Suddenly; Gemini stops poker still. Her hands frozen mid hair, her breasts high and her breath caught in her throat. The moment on hold like a photographic still frame. Her face begins to flush and the breath that had been caught in her throat finally departs her mouth ragged,laboured and shallow. 

Keeping her eyes shut tight (like she fears to look down) Gemini cautiously removes her hands from her hair and uses them to cling to the wall behind her as though the task of grasping for breath is making her knees weak. She can feel her heart racing and her breathing is now so laboured it is coming in groaning gasps. 

She drops the whole weight of her body against the shower tiles for stability and a moan escapes from her parted lips just as the head of a fully clothed but soaking wet Dean Winchester rises up between her breasts. 

Dean is sucking and licking at her ever ready nipples. Sucking and licking them as he has done to almost every inch of her that runs from between her tender thighs to her buoyant cleavage.

He continues his happy trail right up to Gemini's mouth. Placing his full and open lips over her panting, part-parted own. Dean widens the entry to Gemini's mouth with a forceful flick of his tongue; kissing her roughly. Then he is standing slightly over her at full height as they hold each others gaze.

Dean’s eyes are filled by pupils so full and round they look like lusty dark moons. He tangles his fingers into Gemini’s long, wet, honey hair; stroking her cheek gently with his thumb never breaking her gaze.

For a moment all that can be heard are the powering shower jets and the tight breaths that are causing both Gemini and Dean’s chests to visibly heave.

 

Gemini’s lips twitch into a sly smile. She strokes her finger down the incredible structure of Dean’s jaw line. She can't deny how turned on she is by finally being able to put her hands on 'the something special' in the determination of this very jaw and the symmetry of this almost mythically handsome warriors face that had ticked all the right boxes and put Dean number one with a bullet to the top of the 'hit that' list. 

“Is it that time already?” Gemini whispers breathlessly. 

Then she leans in and gently grazes Dean’s stubble surfaced jaw line and throat with soft kisses. Closing his eyes, a lustful moan escapes from deep in Dean’s throat forcing its way out into the world by parting his bee stung lips.

He slides his hands from Gemini’s hair and instead focuses their energies on her body. The feel of his touch sliding over her curves makes the heady hormonal cocktail inside her ebb and flow as though her lust and pleasure are following the magnetic draw of his fingers on her skin.

Raising the fingers on his right hand back towards her face. Dean takes Gemini’s chin in his hand and tilts it upward, lifting her gaze back into his own. Within a split second they are kissing; hot, heavy and with a raging lust.

Their hands are everywhere. Stroking and grabbing greedily, their bodies so tightly pressed that Gemini can feel Dean hard against the soft flesh of her abdomen through the denim restraints of his soaking jeans. 

Wrapping Gemini’s thighs around his waist Dean carries her through to the bed. The two of them are insatiable, kissing and touching all the way.

Dean can’t even remember who this chick is or how he got here but he doesn’t care. He can’t remember a time when he wanted a woman more than he wanted this one right now. 

All he knows is he needs to touch and drink in every inch of her and when the moment is right; feel every inch he has inside her. 

He, Dean Winchester was hot and hard for a fat chick. What would Sammy say? Right now, Dean couldn’t give a fuck what anyone thought as he felt Gemini’s tender flesh writhing against him, in his mouth and under his hands.

If he was honest he had dug fat chicks before but let them slip by because as moronic as it may sound they didn’t fit in with his ‘Fonz’ like persona.  
This time he was grabbing the opportunity with 'two hands', the same two hands which were currently kneading the flesh of Gemini’s ample ass. 

Laying her down on the bed he does that beautifully intense ‘Dean thing' of looking right into her; at every inch of her soft, curved, luscious and wet his eyes wide with just a hint of humbled awe.

Dean has a hardcore honesty in him made up in equal parts of hard lust and genuine protection that shines through in the way he handles a woman.  
Even just one night with him leaves a woman feeling safe to let go and in turn satisfied because she can open up to him. She will let him in; all the way in and that was another reason he was perfect for the job.

Sam definitely came across gentler in personality but was the polar opposite in sex. He is almost animal in the way he handles a woman his style is all brute lust and blind rage. 

Sexual power consumes him in such a way that a woman seems almost no more than just a vessel to pound his frustrations into. In sex the dark side that bubbles under the surface of this sweet, thoughtful and very intelligent guy is fully manifest.

While in Dean’s case, the wall of smart mouth bravado is down and his real honesty is far more sexy, human even, especially to a warrior woman who would crush a man of brute animal force like Sam with her thighs.

To a warrior woman sex is a union, a meeting of like minds and a training ground. Not a conquest, not to ravage a woman’s body. A man who tries to play sex out like domination in a warrior woman’s bed is most likely to pay with his life. 

Gemini Jones was one such warrior woman and Dean Winchester's guest star role in her bed and shower was far more than a happy accident. it was part of a strategic military plan.

 

In the summer of 1993, thirteen-year old Gemini Jones left her home in the South-West of Scotland, with her Anthropologist father on what she thought was her first anthropological expedition to the Isle of Skye. 

On that trip this short, chubby, shy and music obsessed young lady who was then known as Gemma Cochrane, discovered her family's well kept secret. 

Thanks to the bloodline of her long deceased mother, Gemma /Gemini was not only half American and potentially an Eastern Seaboard Socialite. She also came from a long line of fearless supernatural hunters and this trip was her coming of age. 

Strangely the whole 'supernatural hunter' part seemed far less preposterous to Gemma and easier to take on board than the possibility of her being a social anything and especially not in any kind of 'lite' sense. 

Gemma's parents had met and fell in love at university in Glasgow when her American mother a hunter (and herself an eastern seaboard socialite) had come to the city under the guise of an Anthropology major on a transfer year. In reality she was following a lead on a hunt from a source back home.

Many nights of research in the University library, led Jacqueline Catherine Van Buren into the life and arms of the fiercely intelligent and geeky yet attractive Gregory Cochrane. Much to the chagrin of Jackie's father she stayed in Scotland married Gregory and gave birth to her daughter.

Three weeks after Gemma's birth Jackie was found drowned in the bath. Despite the bloody nail marks along the bathroom walls from where she had tried to claw her way out of the bath tub the coroner and her doctor closed Jackie's case sighting it a suicide caused by depression.

Gregory knew better; he knew the work of a revenging demon when he saw it. In the five brief years he had with his wife she had taught him much about the hunters life. He also knew with a heavy heart he could be the hunters confidant but never a hunter himself.

Giving his wife a proper hunter's cremation; Gregory then took his baby daughter back to his quiet home town in the South-West of Scotland hoping to keep Gemma under the radar in order to buy himself some time.

Gregory knew from stories Jackie had told him that the life would eventually find Gemma (probably as a teenager) no matter where they went so he wanted to prepare her in the best way possible for the fight ahead. Gregory took a job in the local museum and began obsessively studying the mythological tales of The Ulster Cycle in preparation.

Gemma spent much of her childhood hidden away in her room escaping into music, it's back story and history. Her comfort and friend in a town where gossip ran rife about her family.

Being the daughter of the town's museum running eccentric who's wife mysteriously killed herself was bad enough but to be all that over weight and mad about old music that no one else in your class had a clue about made you the eccentric daughter of the town eccentric. Otherwise known as signing your own social death warrant. 

 

So while Gemma happily muddled her way through her years in her room and social purgatory. Her dad turned night into day in his home office dredging through false leads and rare manuscripts until in late June, 1993 he finally discovered how to summon the warrior goddesses Scathach and Aife (the formally feuding sisters of shadows) his purpose being to ask them to take his daughter under their wing. 

Scathach and Aife were legendary for their warrior training skills as you would expect from daughters born of Morrigan the goddess of war. 

Lore stated that at least Scathach (if not both sisters) could be found on the Isle of Skye. So in early July, Gregory packed up his daughter and they headed up Scotland. 

Under a full moon on Sunday the 4th of July 1993, the sisters were summoned and a deal was brokered between them and Gregory.

Scathach and Aife agreed to give young Gemma their time, training and protection under one non negotiable condition; Gemma’s body would become 'theirs', a human vessel to be used as they willed. Gregory felt he had no other choice and so agreed to the sisters condition.

The sisters saw potential in young Gemma. They had a key role for her to play in their battle to ward off a greater threat to all of their existences. 'The Apocalypse'. For the mighty battles of ‘The End Times’ which had been spoken of in whispers for centuries were now shouted warnings on the breeze and only decades away.

Frightened and tearful Gemma begged her father not to leave her.  
He smiled a sad resigned smile.

“I’m sorry my wee darlin’ but it has to be done. One day you’ll understand.”

Gregory kissed Gemma on the forehead and turned and walked away. He couldn’t let her see his heart was breaking. She had to be brave.

That was the last time Gemma would be known as Gemma and the last time she would see her father alive. He had gotten her to the sisters in the nick of time. On the 12th of August 1993 Gemma's childhood cottage home was burned to the ground, Gregory didn't survive.

 

 

For six years the sisters shaped the newly christened Gemini into a real warrior woman soft and curved in all the right places with strong hips, sturdy thighs and amazing strength; proud of her stronger fuller form and afraid of no man.

Aife coupled her power of knowledge with Gemini’s own quick intellect and intuitive nature and began filling her mind with as much wisdom and as many strategic fighting secrets as it could hold; while Scathach trained her to fight like she did. To be a warrior deft and deadly with a spear.

Combining all this with Gemini’s passionate love and extensive knowledge of modern music not only made Gemini an excellent hunter but also gave her an unexpected edge as a tracker that no other hunter had. 

Spirit energy had began to communicate to Gemini and guide her to hunts through the vessel of modern music. She also discovered she could manipulate music to pull off a few tricks of her own. Which came in particularly handy for summoning the chosen conquests with whom she was to perform her 'vessel' duties. 

If Gemini had to pick a song to represent what those duties were, Heart's ‘All I wanna' do is make love to you’ came the closest she could find with Scathach and Aife taking on the roles of Ann and Nancy Wilson. The writers in charge of the orchestration of her journey. 

Gemini's role in the sisters plan was as a sexual vessel; the body that Aife and Scathach borrowed to make love to the young men they saw as suitable seed bearers and the children the goddesses birthed by these men became the great soldiers of their army. Their fighting force against their end battle enemies.

In fact Gemini's first conquest as the sisters 'sexual vessel' had been standing roadside in the rain, without a coat on an autumn night in 1997 when they instructed her to pick him up. 

Gemini had been seventeen; newly passed her driving test and had never been kissed. He was thirty-four and a soldier who had been on active duty during the Gulf War and more recently in Bosnia.

Scathach and Aife had been watching the Winchesters Literally from the moment Gemini had first transported them to the US in the summer of 1999. They originally intended to make John one of their seed bearers. However as time went on it became clear Dean was in fact the sperm donor they should be after.

The whisperings of other supernatural beings revealed, Dean was a first born descendant of the long established and ancient Campbell line of hunters, he was extremely virile and he had all the instincts and skills of a powerful warrior and leader. Making him a perfect seed bearer and the children from his seed would be the sisters commanding chiefs.

Many meetings of bodies and minds had occurred for Gemini since then allowing the sisters to birth their army (sometimes several soldiers at a time when a bumper crop of encounters allowed it). Each of these encounters a stepping stone leading to what was finally taking place right now in a run down, Mobile motel where the décor hadn't been updated since 1978.

The décor is the last thing on Dean's mind as Gemini runs her tongue along the muscles of his taut stomach while unbuttoning his jeans. It is also the last worry on Gemini's as she braces herself for what is to come. 

In the next ten minutes or so Gemini will play host to three persons inside her body. Whether or not the warrior sisters will be impregnated by Dean and complete their recruitment mission lies in Gemini’s hand; Quite literally. 

Dean's key instrument for the completion of the sisters future army does indeed throb in Gemini's fist and she is enjoying its full capacity as she slides her curved palm and fingers from it's tip to base over and over; Dean’s hips begin to swivel to the rhythm of her touch. 

As Gemini takes it's head between her lips circling it with her tongue she hears a low moan rising at the back of Dean's throat as pleasure contorts the muscles in his beautiful face. A power washes over Gemini that makes her want to bring Dean to the brink by her touch alone. Although she knows she must not.

Dean Winchester’s up most importance to the sister’s plans had afforded Gemini a lot of time to watch him in action and she had grown to like what she saw. However being only a vessel she has to think of the greater good; no matter that for once she is with a man that she would like to experience for her own pleasure. Something she had never done.

For Gemini Jones has had more foreplay than the latest raunchy offering from Rihanna leaked on to ‘You Tube’ two days before its official release date but no man has ever made love to her or wanted her on her own terms.

The minute the countdown to entry begins the sisters take her over. She truly is a foreigner who wants to know what love is.

 

Dean slides his hand over Gemini’s, intertwining their fingers releasing her grip from him; almost like he’s reading her thoughts. He intertwines the fingers on their free hands also and kneeling over Gemini lays her down on the bed. Sliding her arms out to her sides. Dean slides forward using the strength in his upper body to hover his body over hers.

Face to face again he looks into Gemini's ocean blue eyes in his intense way; turning the fire in her belly into an inferno. He kisses Gemini deeply and slowly savouring the taste of her mouth and the heat of the connection between their bodies

Freeing her hand from Dean's, Gemini runs her fingers over his cheek; allowing her thumb to rest on the cushion of his full lips, as she becomes hypnotised by the amazing glow of his hazel green eyes and their canopy of perfect lashes. 

Dean looks at her in that humble awestruck way of his, lingering a moment in the blissful sensation then begins kissing his way down her squirming pleading body.

He tries to quench his raging thirst by licking and sucking anywhere that rivulets of water have cascaded or pooled on Gemini’s still soaking frame.

Dean runs his tongue from Gemini's navel to her breast bone in order to capture a straying droplet; this almost causes Gemini to lose her mind in lust as he does. Moaning aloud she grabs fistfuls of the bed sheets to try and regain control. 

As Dean moves back down to butterfly her abdomen and inner thighs with small soft licks and kisses; Gemini arches her back feeling the muscles inside her begin to quicken. She has to mentally pull herself up by the boot straps before he tips her over the edge.

Reaching her hands down into his hair allowing him to remain between her thighs a split second longer; Gemini strokes Dean's face, coaxing his gaze up to hers, guiding him back up to kiss her. 

This makes it possible for Gemini to work her way on to her knees so Dean finds himself standing at the end of the bed. At that moment Gemini senses the arrival of the sisters either side of her. Aife’s hand on her right shoulder, Scathach’s on her left. Her time with Dean is nearly over.

Gemini breaks away from the kissing; Dean looks at her intently through lust drunken eyes. How like a great warrior he looks still fully clothed in the wet and contouring armour of his t-shirt and unzipped jeans. The final assault begins.

Gemini’s hands seem to be everywhere on Dean at once. On Dean’s contouring shirt, in Dean’s contouring shirt, on his chest, over his back, inside his jeans, clawing his ass, stroking his pulsing erection and circling his stomach.

Equally her soft lips and flickering tongue seem to be in and on his mouth, around his shaft and over every inch of his body.

They tug and tear at his clothes till he is stripped of every inch of his armour. The urgent need to be kissing, sucking and supping of each other washes over them again full force. Their tongues writhing like epileptic snakes.

Dean’s body is in aching ecstasy. He is doing everything not to lose his senses altogether, not to come right there and then before he can put his virile self right where he wants to be when that mind blowing moment comes; deep inside her.

“If this is losing your mind...”, thought Dean. 

“bring it on baby woo hoo!”

Gemini arches her back violently, Dean hears her cry out in a pleading breathless whisper.

“I need you inside me, deep inside me!”

Unable to hold it together any longer (and always happy to play the hero) Dean slides himself in between Gemini’s thighs, pounding hard, taking all his strength to hold on. Gemini is bucking and writhing equally hard against him.

Dean can see, feel and taste everything in vivid colour. His heart is racing, the rushing of his own blood pounds in his ears and heat and ecstasy are rising in his loins. The most blissful, amazing and powerful climax of his life is upon him!!

 

When Sam awakens the next morning to find Dean gone he thinks he has gone for breakfast. Back at the ‘Blue Orchid’ Dean is already awake.

He was roused from sleep half an hour before Sam when the highly surprised cleaning lady burst in to find his naked body sprawled across the tangled bed. The sight of him causing her to let out a scream that woke Dean from a death like sleep and brought everyone running.

Ten strangers staring at you naked is bad enough worse still when a certain member of your body appears to be preparing for a repeat of last nights action. Although Dean could not figure where it found the energy considering every muscle in his body was burning from the most intense workout he had ever had.

 

Later on that day on the drive back to ‘his’ motel with a ravenous appetite and enough food for five. Dean tries to piece the night together.

He’d had sex with his first ‘fat chick’ and oh she was sexy, whole soft, sweet scented handfuls and mouthfuls of sexy. His mind was blown! It was AWESOME! No sooner had he shot his first mind blowing load then they started again and it went on for hours!!

He had no clue how he got there? he was sure he left the bar and went straight back to the room? He hadn’t been that drunk; at least he didn’t think he had?

She, (whoever this curvy creature of mystery was) had jumped ship on him at some point early that morning. Her thoughtless actions leading to the highly embarrassing cleaning lady ambush. 

The only clue to who she was could be found with the motel manager who informed Dean (in between profuse apologies) that Miss P. Benatar, had not mentioned the room was still occupied when she left.

“That’s typical of Pat.”

Dean had said giving the manager one of his charming smiles as he exchanged pleasantries and left but the joke was on him.

There was no way that girl was P Benatar, could it be possible she was a hunter? Did they know the same people? Would she tell other hunters about their night together??

Dean felt confused, elated, slightly sick and a bit used all at once and then it dawned on him was this how he made women feel when he loved and left them?

The thought physically ran across the expressions of his face then he chased it from his mind before it got to deep into his head. Dean mentally berated himself for being such a chick about the whole thing.

“Come on you douche bag, suck it up.” 

He says aloud, checking his mirror as he turns the Impala back into the neighbourhood where his motel was. Turning on the cassette player Dean thinks a little music will take his mind off things. A bit of AC/DC will get him back to his testosterone toting self.

As he turns into the motel parking lot to the final strains of ‘Back in Black’ a smile returns to his face. The next song begins as he cruises round to a parking space. It was (of course) ‘You shook me all night long’.

Dean parks in the space, turns off the engine, puts his head in his hands on the steering wheel and shouts.

“Son of a bitch!”


End file.
